


One step closer

by Anuna



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Mistakes, Regret, Second Chances, alternate universe: figure skating, favorite romantic pairing: skyeward, grant ward appreciation month, past relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-20 06:31:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5994973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anuna/pseuds/Anuna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>It's doubtful that anyone has a teddy bear for Grant Ward these days. </i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <i>That's fine. It's not like he didn't deserve it. He did, after all, everything they said about him.</i></p>
<p> </p>
<p>(AU in which Grant wants to say goodbye properly, after he caused a huge doping scandal.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	One step closer

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from "A thousand years" by Christina Perry, and it's the song Grant is skating to. 
> 
> I feel I should add that I am not a skater and my knowledge about the sport comes from watching it and reading about it a little bit, which is why I didn't go into too many technicalities. I hope I didn't write something completely ridiculous in there.

One last time, he thinks.

 

Looking down at his skates is a force of habit. Everything's there. He doesn't feel his costume on him. That's okay. The less things that distract him, the better, it's why he went with all black. It stands out against the ice. It's also a funeral color, which is fitting.

 

One step closer, he thinks.

 

Of course it's Campbell who goes before him, and his performance is flawless, or nearly flawless. It doesn't matter because judges like him, audience likes him, even the teddy bears thrown at ice like him. They look good next to his face. It's doubtful that anyone has a teddy bear for Grant Ward these days.

 

That's fine. It's not like he didn't deserve it. He did, after all, everything they said about him.

 

“You're sure about this, son?” John asks and Grant just nods, staring at the ice and the waving and throwing kisses to the audience. Campbell needs to go away and leave the ice so his presents could be picked up and Grant could do this one last time.

 

“Yeah,” Grant breathes, shaking his arms to loosen last of the tension. It's not like his head isn't full of stuff that definitely shouldn't be there before a performance. But he knows well enough to set it aside. It would be nice to throw the towel in big style, leave in a way that everyone will remember him, but he has no illusions. Everyone will remember him as that guy who took doping and was kicked out of his team as a result, leaving him with an equally disgraced coach. And it's not that he can't admit a mistake – he can and he did – but no amount of trying to wash away his sins will appease Phil Coulson who simply wants him out. Out of the game, out of the sport; wants Grant's name gone and forgotten.

 

Grant could fight Phil Coulson. But he couldn't stand this situation affecting Skye like it did when every single reporter asked only about him and the relationship they almost had.

 

Sometimes Grant thinks that's his biggest regret. Not the competition he would have won, or the reputation he had lost. Somehow it all comes down to those early mornings when he'd step onto the ice and watch her go through her routine, and then she'd watch him; and sometimes he'd help her iron out the details. Sometimes she brought him steaming cups of coffee and they'd stand next to the rink and talk... or just be quiet. And there, next to the evaporating cold of the ice arena, he would feel warm all the way to his heart.

 

Nowdays she is dating the Campbell guy. She wears her hair short and smiles and reporters don't ask her about Grant Ward anymore. But in truth he was gone over a year ago. This year he showed up, fought his way all through the finals, to the top, where nobody, including him, doesn't think he belongs.

 

His short program was reasonably good. Someone even complimented the fact that he didn't turn to rust. (As if he ever stopped practicing.)

 

Finally this is it. A nice female voice is reading out Campbell's scores. Grant lets the voice fade into the background. John pats his back and Grant smiles. Its a little forced. He does not want to say goodbye to this, but in reality he already did. He had gone, ran away, left without much explanation, disgraced. Now he might do what he should have done then and there, give that one last interview and own up to his mistakes, apologize to people he had hurt and walk away with his chin held at reasonable height, instead of looking down.

So there we go, he thinks. One last time.

 

He steps closer to the rink, holds the cold rail, pulls off the plastic covers from his blades. The last roses and teddy bears are gone, the lights are dimmed, the chatter in the audience is dying down. There's a camera or a few directed at his face. He makes it impassive, but cannot help pressing his lips tight.

 

Then he takes one more breath and steps out onto the ice.

 

Applause. Not too big, but also not lukewarm. Courteous. Which is fine. He can live with that.

 

He skates out near the middle, kneeling down and crossing his arms in front of his face, fists balled tight.

 

The music starts – a song Skye used to warm up to, quiet piano and a female voice; a song about thousand years that aren't his and will never be. But this is an unabashed hommage to _her_ , to all the moments she made him laugh, all those times when she reminded him there was more to it all than what his father expected from him. To all those things he should have listened to, but didn't. To those three kisses he will never forget (and never have again).

 

The melody swells and takes him through the jumps and spins, and his long limbs work just fine, in sync, as graceful as it should be. It's a girly song, John had said. Yeah, Grant answered. _Is this about the girl?_ That Grant didn't answer, but he didn't have to. John just let him do what he wanted.

 

_It's_ _ **for**_ _her_. It's an apology, made of melody she loved and moves he performed for her once upon a time, long time ago, and somehow the entire choreography goes without a hitch. Maybe it's because there's nothing in his head any more, not the scores, or results, not whatever his demanding father would say about his achievements, not even the ice and the rink. It's all gone and he lets himself go back to the time when she used to skate alongside him, smile at him, look at him.

 

The music fades and after the last twist he falls onto his knees, finishing the way he started. His heart is hammering against his ribs and his blood is ringing in his ears so hard he doesn't even register the applause. It comes to him a beat too late. He's looking up and people are applauding. There's commotion outside the rank, and cameras, and things thrown at him. Flowers, he realizes. He looks towards the exit and John is giving him thumbs up. He stands, remembers he should smile and wave and thank – so he picks up a couple of flowers and lifts his open palm, waving as he slowly goes out.

 

And just before he steps out he sees her.

 

She's there.

 

She's there with her hair and makeup done, with the oversized hoodie she always wore over her outfit and she's pressing her lips together and trying hard not to cry. And just like that everything fades again. Grant doesn't even know how he steps out.

 

She steps close up to him. She's looking at him like she wants to find an explanation in his eyes. Cameras around them are snapping pictures.

 

“I'm sorry,” is all he manages to say, because there's no time.

 

She nods, quickly, and wipes a few tears and smiles. _She smiles._

“I know,” she says. “Can we talk later?”

 

John has to drag him by the hand. He's sitting down to hear his scores, but they almost don't matter. Skye wants to talk to him.

 

In the end he ends up third.

 

(He never expected to win. But after receiving a medal and flowers the reporters start asking him is this his big comeback, and John tells him that he'd be crazy to go away now.)

 

 

 


End file.
